


Series E

by GloriaMundi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cannon Fodder, Community: trope_bingo, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:03:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5044075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloriaMundi/pseuds/GloriaMundi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every bond you buy is a bullet in the barrel of your best guy's gun.<br/>Written for the 'cannon fodder' trope on trope_bingo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Series E

"Every bond you buy is a bullet in the barrel of your best guy's gun," and Steve wonders who's buying the bonds that'll make bullets for Bucky. (Okay, he's bought a few war bonds himself, though he's sending half of his pay back to Bucky's family, since even before he left for Camp Lehigh they hadn't heard from Bucky for a while: if Bucky buys it over there, sure, they'll get some money, but Steve'd prefer to have them healthy and happy when Bucky gets home.) So -- does it count, that Steve's prancing around on a stage in Milwaukee, in Philadelphia, in Passaic? Is every dance number another bullet in Bucky's gun?

Because of course Bucky's his best guy. He's Steve's best everything. And maybe, yeah, maybe Bucky'd want him now. All those years of Steve pining over him: Bucky never made a pass before, even though he must've known (Bucky's smart as a knife), but maybe now it'd be different. Maybe now they're equals (and Steve almost stumbles at the sudden image of himself and Buck together, _together_ , as equals) Bucky'll want him.

He's imagined, night after night -- and daytime too, those long hours in the bus with the girls chattering about their guys back home -- how they'll meet again. Don't know where, don't know when: but there's talk of the troupe touring overseas, and maybe Bucky'll be there in the audience (Steve'll spot him instantly, he's damn sure of it) at some base in Italy or Portugal, England or Spain, North Africa or the Far East. Bucky's going to laugh his ass off at Steve's costume. "Shit, Steve -- no, wait, do I call you Uncle Sam now? Are those _tights_? Errol Flynn's legs are better'n yours." Maybe Bucky'll show up backstage, charming the girls -- he's always been good with women, and Steve's pretty sure it's not just women who Bucky'd charmed -- but with eyes only for Steve. They'll sneak off somewhere, get a pint of whisky, and Steve'll tell him ...

... Steve'll say ...

He hasn't had a letter from Bucky since. Since before. 

He hasn't had a letter for months: but ships carrying mail get torpedoed just the same as troop carriers (don't think of Bucky drowning) or battleships or cargo haulers. Or maybe Bucky's laid up sick, or -- no, his letters must've gotten lost.

"We're aiming for fifteen billion dollars," says Senator Brandt one morning.

Steve whistles. "That's a heck of a lot of bullets, sir."

The Senator laughs, and explains to Steve how the money's really spent: tanks, planes, ships, uniforms, weapons, medicine, food, and everything else the military needed to fight and win. "And, of course, it stops people frittering their money away on luxuries, and takes their money out of circulation, so inflation stays down low: it's economics, Rogers."

"Of course, sir," says Steve, feeling foolish. He likes his version better: he'll carry on kidding himself that every silly dance routine, every haymaker that knocks Hitler down, is putting more ammo in Bucky's belt.

Steve wishes he knew where Bucky was. Not like it'd make any difference to anything: but he'd like to know. He'd like to be able to watch the newsreels with the girls and breathe that sigh of relief when a new victory's reported. (The newsreels talk about the war effort, and nurses in hospitals, and Captain America. Steve's learning not to blush. But they don't talk about the 107th.) He'd like to be able to look at the world map in the back of his Lincoln Library and think 'Bucky's there'. He'd like to imagine the weather where Bucky is: is he soaked to the skin? knee-deep in mud? trudging through snow like Captain Scott in the Antarctic? Or is he baking under an African sun, dodging bombs in some English city, guarding an outpost that's so far out the Nazis don't even know it's there? Wherever he is -- Sergeant James Barnes, 107th, last seen heading for the New York Port of Embarkation, winking at Steve and telling him not to do anything stupid -- Steve will do whatever it takes to bring him back. And yeah, if that's singing and dancing, lifting motorbikes and pretty girls above his head, saying his lines with all the sincerity he can muster, going to _Jersey_ for chrissakes ... He'd do worse.

He'd like to be a hero. To rescue Bucky, for a change. "Payback for all those times you saved my dumb ass," he'll say, and Bucky'll duck his head and grin and say "I had 'em on the ropes." And he'll turn to Steve, come in close, put his hand on Steve's shoulder --

Ain't gonna happen. He's gotta do what he can. And what he can do, is sell himself ("Dignity? You gotta be kiddin', Rogers!") for bullets in the barrel of his best guy's gun.


End file.
